Post Stab Debrief
by bisexualcharliedavis
Summary: Whumptober Day 8 and 9: Stabbing and Stitches. Danny sits with Charlie while he gets some stitches put in by the Doc.


A/N: Danny! warnings for...stabbing? and a bit of pining.

"You're in good spirits for someone who got stabbed," Danny said, as he watched Blake put stitches into Charlie's leg.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" He asked, adjusting his ugly blue hospital robe to protect his modesty as much as he could. Well, Danny couldn't argue with that. He certainly was alive and he was certainly still getting on Mattew's nerves.

"Yes, you are." He agreed and took hold of his hand. There was no iv port in this one, some sadistic nurse had decided it would be better to put it in the left. "Despite the best efforts of Mister York."

"I didn't know he was actually going to stab me," Charlie said, in his own defense. Like he was on trial, rather than trapped in a hospital bed, doped up on pain killers. The sun was shining outside, and though the hospital was crisp thanks to the fans in the building, outside it was sticky hot and cheerful. It felt like a slap in the face because Danny was feeling about anything other than cheerful.

"You didn't know he was actually going to stab you?" Blake asked, raising his eyes from Charlie's thigh to meet his face. Charlie, whose eyes were distant with pain killers for the stab wound, shrugged.

"I just thought he was going to threaten us with it."

Danny thought about the noise of surprise and horror Charlie had made when York plunged the knife into his leg and shivered against his will. Charlie was his best mate, and no one wants their best mate to be in pain; that he could guarantee.

"He explicitly said if you kept goading him he was going to stab you!" He said, loudly. Blake gave him a stern look and he lowered his voice. "Sorry."

"Yeah, he did." Charlie agreed, "But did him stabbing me not give you time to tackle him rugby style?"

Danny thought about the crunching noise York's left arm had made when they landed and felt satisfaction all over again. He wasn't a rugby player, he was a cricket player and cricket was no contact; unless you were hitting another player with the ball. But when he'd been younger, before he settled on cricket he had been an avid rugby player, and football player, hell; he'd even applied for the track team. So he wasn't out of his depth totally when it came to crash tackling a perp.

"It did." He says, and Charlie pulls his hand away to scratch at his left arm, where Danny can see a red, raised mosquito bite. Ah, Summer.

"Don't scratch that," Blake ordered, and Charlie complied, probably on muscle memory more than anything else. Danny noticed one on the leg which hadn't been stabbed he'd itched through. Probably got it one last week when they went swimming. Supposedly, swimming was good for the boss's leg and Charlie would do just about anything Matthew Lawson asked of him.

Danny liked swimming in the summer, but he could just have easily gone his whole life without seeing his boss in a bathing suit. Charlie on the other hand...While the actual time he'd spent in the pool was limited; Danny had to admit he looked niced in his burrowed bathers. Even if he was mostly hidden under Rose's giant sunhat to try (and fail) to avoid getting sunburned.

"What you thinking about?" Charlie asked.

"Hm?"

"You've got a thinking look on your face."

"How to explain to the boss that you got stabbed without getting stabbed myself." Danny lied.

"He won't stab you." Charlie assured him, "Trust me, he likes you too much. If he was going to stab someone he'd stab the Doc."

"Thank you, Charlie." Blake said, "You know, I can try and make these stitches neat or I can put them it an angle." He warned, but they all knew he would never do anything to jeopardize the best outcome for a patient.

"Whatever," Charlie replied, still unusually jovial. "Chicks dig scars, right Danny?"

"Sure." He said, even though he wasn't sure it was true. He doubted Rose, Mattie or any other girl Charlie happened to pursue was going to suddenly fall in love with him because he had a big, fuck off scar on his leg but…He looked down at the wound. It was good Charlie was so jovial.

He didn't think he could handle him being anything else, after having to sit with both hands holding around the knife embedded in his thigh to stop the bleeding as best he could. He'd been so scared, he knew there was a big artery in the thigh and if he'd been stabbed there he'd bleed out and there was nothing Danny could have done to save him.

And he'd been crying.

He'd known Charlie since he was in the academy, and they'd walked side by side in the bush on a search for a missing child, and he'd never once seen Charlie cry before. Not even when he got hit in the head by a cricket ball at one of Danny's games; an injury which would reduce just about anyone to tears. But when Danny had looked up, from where he was kneeling, there had been tears clumped up in his eyelashes and what he was sure was a prayer under his breath.

It's not an easy thing to deal with seeing.

All he could do was try to keep pressure around the wound; he knew better than to remove the knife and promise him it was going to be alright. And it was; alright. Charlie had never lost consciousness, the blood loss was not too bad, and the worst he was going to come out of it with was a scar on the leg. He knew he was only cheerful because of the drugs they'd given him to numb the pain, but it didn't do much to improve him feel any better.

Was that selfish? To wish Charlie to be more serious at a time like this?

He felt something grab him by the hand and noticed it was Charlie.

"I have to thank you." He said.

"For?"

"Saving my life."

"You don't have to thank me for that." Danny blanched, "I was just doing my job. My life would be way easier without you using up all the hot water." He said, and then wished he could be open for just one second about his emotions.

"Maybe." Charlie smiled, "You should join me, we'll use half as much hot water and I can show you what takes me so long."

"No." He said, but he still sort of wanted too. Charlie was a handsome man, and Danny was not immune to the pull of a handsome man. But he was also drugged up and probably had no idea what he was saying. Lucien swatted him on the hip.

"Charlie!"

"What?" He asked, innocently. Lucien shook his head and started wrapping a bandage around his leg. Danny looked at his hand, at the slight trace of blood under his nails, and the mottled red white color of the back of his hands. Unlike the left, this one was clear of any scars or marks from his school days. "It's a beautiful day." Charlie said, "I'm glad to be alive, sharing it with you both."

"Me too." He agreed, easily. "Me too."


End file.
